


Your Words Like Scars Etched Into My Skin(Your Very Presence Still Haunts My Dreams)

by solluxisaripeprick



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cancer, Death, F/M, Goodbye arasol, Humanstuck, Sollux and Aradia are adults
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-28 17:43:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3863920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solluxisaripeprick/pseuds/solluxisaripeprick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aradia dies of cancer and this is how Sollux comes into terms with her death. (Slightly based off of the song Apartment by Young the Giant)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Words Like Scars Etched Into My Skin(Your Very Presence Still Haunts My Dreams)

The tumour was too big, too risky for them to go further. If they had closed her up then she still would have a few months to live and Sollux wished for that time. But something happened, something they couldn’t save her from because the bleeding happened too fast for them to stop. At 9:30am she died because of excessive bleeding and the only thing they could do then was close her and tell him the news. He just stood there frozen, too many emotions were coursing through him to even produce a reaction. They asked him if he’d liked to see her and he nodded quickly. And when they left him alone with her, again he didn’t cry and instead just pulled the tarp over her before making a quick exit. It was only till he walked into the apartment they once shared did he finally beat himself up for it.

 

He knew it wasn’t his fault, he knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault but he was irrational and quick to pinpoint his shaky anger on himself. It was _him_ who told her she’d get better. _He_  didn’t stop her from getting the surgery if though the doctors had said it would be a risky one. If she believed they were possible of getting it out then _he_ allowed them to do it because she was always right after all. She told him after this they’d be able to live together for a long time but now that time has stopped. It was because of _him_ that she’s now left to wander in the dark, never able to wake up and see him once again. The words she said before she went into the OR were now her last and right now, they were the only ones he could seem to remember. And it hurt him.

 

So he wrote, not typed, because words on paper were never permanent, just like her. He wrote for his fear of silence because she was his noise, the sound that made him function. Now that she was gone the only thing he could do was write about her and hope that would be enough to satisfy his cruel mind. The loud tapping of the pencil on paper was the only noise he could hear the only one he chose to focus on because he was writing about her. He just needed to change the tapping to her own voice, to the words she’d say to him on the rainy days that made him feel gloomy. That alone should have gotten him out of his own rainclouds, but they refused to stop pouring. But instead of giving up, he continued to write about her in utmost detail. Like how she’d smile so wide her dimples could be seen and that paired with the fact that her smile itself could light his day couldn’t stop him from smiling then. How sometimes she’d turn on music and whisk him out of his chair and while he complained he couldn’t help but dance along. How her long ginger curls were soft to the touch and sometimes he’d play with it before he drifted off to sleep, her warm body against his lanky and cold one. The writing was almost obsession-like and even though his scraggly handwriting could not match her beauty, this was enough to keep him going. Because if this was an obsession it was also a necessity. He couldn’t let her go. Not now.

 

After he had poured his heart and soul on the paper till it was wet with his own tears he just sat there in silence. In the mind-numbing, paranoia causing silence. It wasn’t going to help him think and he knew that but maybe if he let himself drown in the paranoia it’d numb the pain just a little bit. Maybe it’d get him to stop thinking about her.

 

He clutched the paper then, turned his attention to it so that his only objective was to read about her over and over. He couldn’t stop thinking of her even if he wanted to so instead he’d keep her in his memories because he knew she’d want that. And once the words on paper were just a jumble of words racing around his  head enough to make him dizzy he decided to grab his raincoat and head outside.

 

For a while he chose to just stand in the windy rain, to just hide in his raincoat while he listened to the rain pour on him and around him. It was as if even the sky knew something was amiss and cried for him when he couldn’t. The cold outside could not amount to the cold regret he was feeling. He knew that he should let her go and move on but part of him felt that it was too soon to let go. Too soon to move on and not feel guilty. So instead he held on and protected the papers he held and began to walk in the cold rain. Even though it wasn’t necessarily a good idea for him to be walking out at this time at this very moment it was his only driving force to be here. He would face anything to get to his destination and while his directions weren’t exactly the best he knew he’d get there somehow.

 

After leaving their apartment, no, _her_ apartment he could already smell the salty sea air. By now the sun had fallen and the moon took its place. He trudged in the sand, shivering and soaking wet. Once he reached the coast he sat down, looking at the crumpled pieces of paper he managed to save. The rain that had got on it had smudged the writing but he still read over it to keep the memories alive. It was dark, yes, but nothing could stop him now. This was the last time he’d ever be able to read it after all.

 

He put the hand holding the papers down and looked up at the sea. Aradia had always wanted to live by it but neither of them could afford the money to settle down here. They were working so hard to get the money. He could even remember the tip jar they had on the counter next to the kitchen sink. How one time he had to go and get the change that fell into the drain. He chuckled, remembering how they had to call the plumber in order to fix the damage Sollux, the impromptu plumber with no experience, caused. That was until they had discovered she had developed cancer and they had to use those tips to get past medical bills. He guessed he failed her because of that. It showed that he was no good. Not for her.

 

He reached for the lighter that was in his pocket and reached for the papers. Aradia was a fighting spirit, something he wished he was. He placed the papers near the small fire of the lighter. She was also a fiery one, who never was unhappy, not even when they had found out. He wished he could have that strength and especially at a time like this. Without her strong personality he felt weak on his own, it took a lot of effort just to force himself to move or even think about her. He watched the papers light up with fire then turn to ash which was soon carried away by the wind like one of their late night dances. If she had to be remembered, or well, forgotten, this was how she’d want it to happen.

 

After leaving her apartment, the smell of the coast only seemed to bring back the memory of a box hidden in his dresser.

 

And inside that box was a ring.


End file.
